


Little Things in Life

by LileNoire



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, Fluff, Lost - Freeform, Mild Smut, Multi, Snowball Fight, Torture, Triggers, cakes, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LileNoire/pseuds/LileNoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets and requests from my writing tumblr. Includes a lot of Modern!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aragorn/Boromir Merry/Pippin Coffee Shop AU

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by wigglengiggle for three sentence challenge: 1. Boromir/Aragorn (or Merry/Pippin) 2. IDK Coffee shop AU? 3. SURPRISE ME!
> 
> I was very literal in the 'three sentence' part, but hey, I tried!

“Perhaps next time I see you, I can take you a much nicer place than here, say, for example, my flat?” the blonde man said, handing Aragorn his coffee with a mean glint in his eyes and  _that_  wicked smile.

Aragorn accepted his coffee, amused by the blonde’s extreme forwardness and in turn slipped a ten in the man’s belt as a tip.

“I’m afraid I have a girlfriend, but I’ll ask her if she wants to join in,” he replied and the man laughed and grinned.

* * *

Merry/Pippin

“Well?” Pippin prompted, leaning in with his eyebrows raised hopefully, clutching onto his tray.

Merry swallowed the tea, smacked his lips together, put on his most thoughtful expression, and then shook his head.

“Nah, it still tastes like dirty dishwater!” he said, to which Pippin threw his hands in the air in defeat with an “Ach, you’re bloody hopeless!”


	2. Bilbo/Bofur Modern AU Sailing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by wigglengiggle for drabble from one word challenge.

Dating Bofur, Bilbo found, usually came with a lot of surprise dates, which, for the record, he did not mind in the slightest. In fact, each and every one of them turned out quite lovely.

But that fact did not bring comfort to Bilbo as he stared at the white sails and the sleek boat.

“Bofur, I can’t,” he said when Bofur offered him a life jacket. “We’ve done some wonderful things together, but this is too much.”

“Ah, it’s no trouble,” Bofur dismissed with that stupid charming smile. “Everything’s already paid for.”

“No, I mean-” He wanted to explain, he really did. But how could he? Bofur had already organised everything and now Bilbo was going to ruin everything. How could he disappoint him?

But how could he also forget about what happened to poor Drogo and Primula?

“Hey,” Bofur said, cupping Bilbo’s cheek softly. “I won’t force you if you don’t want to. But I won’t let you drown, I promise.”

Before he knew it, Bofur was helping Bilbo onto the boat with the lifejacket securely tightened around his middle.

Damn him and his stupid convincing handsome face!


	3. Bombur/Nori Modern AU Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble from one word request from wigglengiggle yet again.

Ever since Bombur took Nori in, he had been very insisted on him to learn how to bake. He did own a bakery, after all, and the redhead did deserve a steady life and a chance after everything he had been through.

Only, as he discovered one morning, there was one thing Bombur did not vouch on.

“What’s all this?” he exclaimed and Nori froze. He turned and straightened, looking almost like a guilty child.

“It’s…cake. Mostly,” he said, sheepishly.

Bombur gaped, staring at the rows of pastries upon breads upon cakes filling the kitchen, one of which Nori had been in the middle of frosting.

“Nori, you- You know how to bake?” he breathed, brushing his fingers against the croissants beautifully dusted with icing sugar.

Nori shrugged, visibly relaxing now. “Well, not really. My older brother may have just taught me one or two things.”

He yawned loudly and Bombur just noticed how messy his hair was and the dark circles under his green eyes. Flour and bits of icing dirtied his apron and his noticeably scarred arms. Once again, Bombur could not help the pity he had for this scrawny thief since he found Nori scrounging around his bins several weeks ago.

“Thank you” he said, placing his hands on Nori’s shoulders. “They’re beautiful. But now you should rest. I’ll take care of business for today.”

Nori smiled weakly, his eyes drooping as he leaned into Bombur’s touch. “Ok,” he said, then, without warning, folded his body against Bombur’s and instantly fell asleep.


	4. Bilbo/Bofur Grey Mitts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My (very short) fanfic gift for the Hobbit Winter Holiday Exchange on Tumblr for ajirzecwredny to accompany this art gift. http://allysartsuff.tumblr.com/post/68480679129/my-art-gift-for-the-hobbit-winter-holiday

Bilbo could deal with a slight cold. Really, he could! It was just a little snivel and the odd sneeze. And maybe his head felt like it had been struck by a thousand hammers and _maybe_  he felt colder than he looked in his oversized new clothing, but it was nothing a good soup couldn’t handle! Even if said soup was of some fish unknown to Bilbo made by one of Bard’s daughters. 

He was being stubborn, yes, but if he could face off giant spiders and ride barrels down a winding river while being shot at by Elves  _and_ Orcs, he could get over a little cold.

But then Bofur offered him his mitts, saying he should at least wear them. Bofur had that look on his face again; the same concern and almost pleading Bilbo saw in his eyes back in the cave in the Misty Mountains. Numbly, he accepted them. They were thick grey ones that looked positively massive on Bilbo’s smaller hands. Warm too and surprisingly soft to touch.

Bilbo looked up and smiled, shyly. “Um, thank you. They’re…” Bilbo paused, noticing Bofur’s now bare hands. “…your only ones?”

Bofur shrugged, rubbing his hands together. “Ah, I can live without them for a while.”

He grinned and Bilbo melted inside, realising how much his missed him during the two long weeks in the Elves dungeons.

Bofur turned to leave for Bard’s house. “C’mon, we better get inside before we really-”

Whatever he was about to say was knocked out of him as Bilbo suddenly hugged him from behind. Bofur is warm and solid against Bilbo as he buries his face into Bofur’s loose hair, his arms clutching around the dwarf, holding him close.

“Hey, what’s all this?” Bofur said in amused astonishment.

“Sorry,” Bilbo muffled against Bofur’s neck, feeling himself blush a little but he didn’t break away. “I just really need this.”

“Oh, my poor Hobbit!” Bofur chuckled and his warm hands cover Bilbo’s and squeeze his fingers affectionately. They stay like this for a short while, until they hear raised voices from inside Bard’s house.

“Humph, mood breakers these bloody dwarves,” Bilbo muttered, finally letting go of Bofur, who laughed.

“Oh, well. But we should head back inside,” Bofur said, his hand intertwining with Bilbo’s. “I feel like my fingers are about to drop in this weather.”


	5. Dwalin/Ori/Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a prompt, just really wanted to write this.

"Dwalin? Are you eating cookies on the bed?"

Dwalin rolled his eyes exasperatedly, shoving another cookie in his mouth. “No, actually, they’re fish cakes! What do you think?” He lay on his back with his head resting on the headboard at an awkward angle, uncaring how uncomfortable it felt every time he swallowed.The jar in his hand was large (nearly too much for his already too large hands) but was already half empty of crumbs and few cookies left.

Ori arched an eyebrow at him, setting his bag on a near chair. He then put his hands on his hips, that damned cocky smile on his lips. “Dear me. Someone is more grumpy than usual.”

"Ach! Leave me alone Ori," Dwalin grumbled, getting crumbs all over his beard. "It’s been a bad day and I deserved it!"

And oh, what a day! Thieves on the rise, guards on the low, too many long political debates sitting by Balin with too many snooty Lords…urgh.

So caught up in his thoughts and munching, Dwalin did not realise Ori had moved until he was straddling his legs and staring down at him, his eyes glinting mischievously under his fringe.

"Sit up more properly, Dwalin," Ori told him, not as a question. Dwalin raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Ori shuffled forward, his hips- Dwalin noted- more flush toward his own. He started by smoothing his nimble hands through Dwalin’s beard and moustache, brushing the crumbs away. The other hand rubbed circles expertly on his shoulder. The tension Dwalin didn’t know he was holding eased and he rumbled approvingly.

"Now, is that better, my lord?" Ori asked, smiling with that secret little smile of his.

"A bit," Dwalin replied, his hands wandering slowly up Ori’s legs. "Are you going to take care of me, husband?"

There was no denying the shiver that ran though Ori, but he gently pushed the hands back. “Not like that,” he whispered, his eyes more alight. “Not yet, anyway.

He reached out and plucked a remaining cookie from the jar, which Dwalin still cradled in his right arm. “I believe you said you deserve these.” Ori brought the cookie to Dwalin’s lips, which smiled.

"That I did, my jewel," Dwalin said and, without breaking eye contact, took a bite.


	6. Dwalin/Nori Unbind Me (TW: Torture)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from wigglengiggle

Time stretched on forever but Dwalin had long given up. Everything hurt, everything weighed twice as much, and every ounce of hope he had of escaping or being rescued evaporated into nothing.

When it had all started, Dwalin had fought back as much as he could, despite being hung from his wrists in chains and his feet bound firmly in irons. He snarled, cursed and head-butted his captors hard whenever one of them got too close.

But these weren’t any ordinary crooks Dwalin ever encountered. They were good at what they did. Terrifyingly, horribly, sickeningly good at what they did. Each day, they delighted themselves in questioning him and finding new ways to slowly break the hardest dwarf in existence. And they won.

Now Dwalin didn’t fight back. Now he hung from his chains in this dark, cold room, his body drained and heavy, his broken ribs aching with every breath, his eye still throbbing.

He was weak. He had failed. He could do nothing.

No, not nothing. No- all he could do now was wait. Wait for the next round of thugs to come in, kicking down the door as they did.  Wait for the questions _Where is Lord Karryn? What does he know about us?_  over and over. Wait for the punches and kicks. Waited for the cold water, the torture tools, more broken bones, more bruising to his face and body and whatever new horror they had in store for him that day. And each day, he would answer in all honesty, _I do not know whom you speak of, I don’t know, I’ve never heard of him, I don’t bloody know, How can I know anything when I don’t know who you are, I don’t know I swear to the hammers and forge, please stop, I don’t fucking know!_

No, it wasn’t even that he was waiting for. If he could not wait for a rescuer or his torturers, then he would wait for death to finally take him to the stone at long last.

“Up! Up, get up! Stand up!”

Dwalin blinked, a task in itself with his eyes being so swollen. That was more prompt than usually. Normally they were louder than this, more unsubtle. Why, he didn’t even hear the door open.

“By the forges and hammer, what have they done to you?”

Chains rattled and locks clicked faintly all around him, the harsh, near cracking voice whispering words of love and comfort and Dwalin only just registered something was different. Before he could react, the chains and irons clacked loose and he was falling, slamming into a warm, living body he could not see. Dwalin groaned, cold pain shooting through his chest

“Easy, easy, easy!” the whisper said desperately, arms holding him and rocking him a little as they knelt together. “Take your time, my giant. Not too much, mind. We can’t let those cunts find us like this.”

Dwalin jolted a little. No one ever called him his giant, no one but…

“Nori!”  he rasped, clinging onto his thief, forgetting his fingers had been broken for some time.

“Shush!” Nori said. “Not so loud. Come on, can you walk?”

He didn’t want to. He wanted Nori to hold him more, wanted to kiss him, wanted to cry he was so happy. But he knew now wasn’t the time so instead, he let Nori help him stand, speaking words of encouragement. It hurt so much, too much and when Nori let him go, he collapsed.

“No, no, no, no, no!” he heard Nori ramble, the panic and worry clear in his voice, warm, safe arms circling him once more. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The words cut him deeper than any knife any of _them_ had used on him and finally, Dwalin _broke_ , sobbing into Nori’s jerkin.

“What are you doing!?” Nori hissed. “They’ll find us!”

“Let them,” Dwalin sobbed. “Let them find me. You get out of here. Save yourself.”

“Do you think I spent the last month searching every corner of the Iron Hills just to leave you behind?!”

“I am too weak for anything,” Dwalin near wailed, shivering. “I am nothing!”

“You are _not!”_ Nori snapped, gripping Dwalin tight. “You are not nothing! Look at me!”

Whimpering, Dwalin tilted his head up. It was so dark, but he just made out the outline of Nori’s hair from the thin light of the door cracks. Despite that, he knew Nori would have _that_ hard gaze on him.

“Now you listen to me,” he said his voice low and serious. “You are Dwalin, son of Fundin, mightiest and hardest of dwarf warriors, Hero and Lord of Erebor, brother to Balin, Lord of Moria, cousin to the late King Thorin Oakenshield and _my husband!”_

Clever smooth fingers caressed his cheek and Nori choked, “ _My giant_. I know they hurt you beyond my help, I know you are not strong now, but _please_ do not give up on me. Not now, not ever.”

There was a long silence after that. Everything hurt, everything ached, he could not see, he could not stand. But Nori was right. How could he have let it end like this? How could he have given up?

Finally, Dwalin grunted, shifted to wipe his eyes. “I’ll have to lean on you,” he said, gruffly. “Can you carry me, thief?”

There was a light laugh like small chiming bells and he felt a wet kiss on his forehead. “That’s my boy!”

“Not a word to anyone of this,” Dwalin growled, letting Nori heft him up, lean his weight on him and hobble towards the door.

“Let’s just focus on getting out and living for now, love.” 


	7. Ori/Dwalin Snowball Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tagath asked: Ori, Dwalin, and a snowball fight (between them, or that they team up for and win maybe?)

The first snowball whacked Ori right at the back of his head, causing him to drop his book in shock. The robin, which he had been sketching quietly, flittered off the twig in a blink.

Annoyed, Ori shot a glare at the perpetrator. Dwalin, in a thick assortment of furs and a winter cape, leaned casually on a nearby tree, looking anywhere but Ori and whistling.

Ori stood up, brushing the snow off his hair. “Are you serious?” he said.

Dwalin only shrugged, his lips curling slightly in a coy smirk.

Ori frowned at him for a while, then slowly knelt down and scooped up some snow.

Dwalin did not move.

He scrunched it into a ball, the silence between them defining.

Still Dwalin did not move.

Ori swung his arm and lobbed it with all his might. Dwalin ducked and rolled, standing right back up with all the smugness of a dragon

“HA! You throw like my-”

THWACK! Right between the eyes.

Ori grinned and taunted, “I’m sorry, what was that again?” He didn’t waste any time. He sprinted between the trees, knowing full well the warrior would already have a dozen snowballs ready under that cape.


	8. Ori/Dwalin I'll Never Unsee That

"I'll never unsee that!"

Dwalin near roared with laughter and Ori blushed harder.

“Shut up!” he hissed, afraid Dwalin would wake the rest of the company. “It’s not that funny. I been traumatised for life because of that!”

The warrior calmed down a little at that, but he was still chuckling. “Aye, aye. I suppose I don’t blame you. Tell you what? I’ll tell you something embarrassing that happened to me and you can laugh all you want, alright?”

Ori glared at him suspiciously. “Alright.”


	9. Bilbo/Bofur If There's One Thing the World Needs More of...

"If there's one thing the world needs more of, it’s a Hobbit!” Bofur said between bites of pancakes.

Bilbo tried scowling at him. The dwarf lounged back on his chair with his bare feet plonked on the table, no less. But he was too tired to give any sort of proper response. He’d been up early to make a proper breakfast for the pair of them and he didn’t know whether to go back to bed or have more bacon.

When he woke up, he was back in his bed at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, hearing Bofur’s whistling outside his window.


	10. Dwalin/Thorin I'm Lost

"I'm lost."

Dwalin let out an exasperated groan. Mahal help him he was going to kill him, king or not.

“What is it now?”

Thorin held the map up and podded at it. “Do you see that road ahead us? The map says that it should go left, not-”

Dwalin snatched the map out of his hands and flipped it over the right way up. He watch his friend with folded arms as realisation and embarrassment slowly dawned on his face.

“Not a word to the boys.”

“Never.”


	11. Ori/Thorin The best cake in the world! Modern!AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tagath asked: Ori, Thorin, and something with the best cake in the world (I don't even know??? I'm shit at prompting, sorry D: )

Ori peered at the dessert menu curiously, not sure what to make of it. “What’s Red Velvet?”

Throin look at him over his reading glasses, his mouth twisted. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Shall we find out together?”

After a bit of thought, Ori shrugged. “Well, Dori does say I should try new things.”

Half an hour later, their matching cakes arrived. The cake itself was deep red smothered in white sauce and for a moment Ori thought of one time when he and Nori where little and dared each other to try food colouring straight from the bottle.

He heaved a sigh and dug his fork in. It did smell good, probably better than he thought.  Then he put it in his mouth…and the flavours exploded in his mouth. Oh, what had he been missing out on! The sweetness, the warm white chocolate sauce, the smoothness of the cake!

Thorin went wide eyed and swallow his bite. “We’re making this tomorrow.”

“Absolutely,” Ori agreed and took another bite.


	12. Thorin/Ori What happened doesn't change anything

Thorin didn’t reply and he did not look at him. He instead stared at Ori’s hand which gripped his unbandaged arm desperately.

Ori tried calming his breathing and loosened his grip.  _This isn’t happening_ , his head screamed.  _This really isn’t happening._

“Thorin, please,” he begged, quietly.  He cupped the king’s face in an attempt to get him to look at him. “I love you.”

That got his attention. His eyes flickered up, twin perfect blue sapphires, but they were still sad. “I don’t want to hurt you again-” he began.

“That happens!” Ori cut in. “But we’ll get over it, like we always-”

“ _Listen to me!”_ Thorin growled and Ori jerked back. For a moment, there was a flash of the gold-lusted dwarf from before Bilbo’s banishment. Then it was gone and Thorin spoke more calmly, his voice rolling like thunder.

“I know now what I did was wrong. I let everyone down and hurt my best friends and you. This madness runs in my family and I cannot make that risk as King, or with you. You must understand.”

They both stood in silence, the noises outside of the tent filling the void. Then Ori shook his head, keeping his tears restrained. “This isn’t over,” he whispered, and excused himself out of the tent as quickly as he could with a limp.

He ignored the tears flowing freely over his cheeks, the empty hollowness inside his heart, the anger and hurt slowly replacing it. Worst was the terrible thought that suggested that Thorin was right. 


	13. Kili/Ori "Oh, relax, we'll be fine"

Ori hissed as, while on all fours, Kili unbuckled his belt and pulled down his trousers and smallclothes. It was cold. Bitterly, bitterly cold. He swore his stones were shrivelling up already and he longed for the campfire a good twenty feet away. But that was in plain sight of the enitre snoring company and it was too big a risk.

"Trying," he gasped out, twiching a little when Kili grouped his buttocks. "It’s just really cold."

Kili chuckled then pressed his very warm body on Ori’s back, nuzzling at his ear and rubbing his nipples through the fabric.He was still comepletely dressed, the danmed prince!

"We could be caught at any minute and you worry about the cold?" he whispered huskily. He bit his ear playfully, something Ori always found lovely.

"I wouldn’t be so if you do your job right," Ori said, not sharply. "And your hands are on the wrong places."

Kili chuckled again, but he did not question or tease any further. His hands moved down, down and soon everything was nothing but hot, blistering pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me prompts at http://allybeewrites.tumblr.com


End file.
